The Damned Trilogy

by Alan Dean Foster

  Though they found the news as upsetting as would any civilized member of the Weave, none of the Wais reacted visibly. To have done so in front of aliens would have been considered unbearably gauche.

  “That is difficult to believe,” said one of the male Wais finally.

  “Though controversy continues, the evidence seems irrefutable.”

  “Which unfortunate world is to be the target of this outrage?”

  “That we haven’t been able to determine … yet.” The S’van wished for a platform. He didn’t like looking up at the Wais. Having to tilt his head back raised his beard off his chest and exposed the sensitive skin beneath. “Thanks to our informants we have been able to reduce the list of candidates to three. Tuo’olengg, Kinar, and … Ulaluable.”

  Very little could induce a Wais’s neck feathers to spike and pupils to widen, but the S’van’s announcement managed that accomplishment.

  “How can this be?” So upset was the remaining male ornithorp that he nearly committed the unpardonable sin of misinflecting the interrogative. “Surely the Amplitur know from experience that an attack on any developed world would be soon surrounded and annihilated.”

  “You’d think so.” The S’van readily agreed. “That’s why we’ve gone to such lengths to confirm the information we’ve received. If all these enemy preparations are simply in support of a feint, it’s far and away the most elaborate one they’ve ever propagated. We can’t take that chance. As the current Administrating Triumvirate of Ulaluable do you want us to take that chance?”

  The polyphonic Wais reply was as unanimous as it was harmonious.

  “That’s what we thought your reaction would be.” The S’van looked satisfied. “The Grand Council has determined to implement exceptional security measures on all three worlds. If the Amplitur’s purpose in this was to force us to reallocate scarce resources, then they’ve already accomplished what they set out to do. You’ll be given everything this quadrant’s Command can spare.”

  “What would possess the Amplitur to embark on an adventure with no chance of success?” the female member of the triumvirate sang bemusedly.

  “Obviously they think better of their chances.” The husky voice of the Massood officer who’d accompanied the S’van was a sharp contrast to the mellifluous tones of the Wais. “Perhaps you have heard about the new fighters they have been using? The ones who hurt us so badly on Eirrosad?”

  “We have heard. While the Wais are noncombatants, we are not indifferent to the progress of the great conflict.”

  A half-hidden figure behind the Massood stepped forward. “If the Amplitur choose Ulaluable as their target, you’ll have to be a damn sight less indifferent.”

  Though not nearly as tall as the Massood, the Human officer towered over the S’van and Wais. Stocky and powerfully built, he sported a heavy mustache and long sideburns which curled toward his chin. Even as they went to great lengths to conceal their distaste for the primitive cosmetic affectation, the Wais instinctively drew back from the massive primate.

  “This would be a lot easier if we knew which of the three worlds they were going to hit, but we don’t, so the same defensive resources have to be allocated to each. Ulaluable gets no more than Kinar or Tuo’olengg. I promise that we’ll do our best for you, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to issue a general alert. Besides the need to brief you, the governors of Ulaluable, that was our purpose in calling this meeting. I hope there won’t be any panic.”

  The slightly taller male replied condescendingly. “The Wais do not ‘panic,’ sir.”

  “No,” muttered the Massood under his breath. “They just freeze at the smell of a weapon.”

  The female glared. “We will do our part. All necessary measures will be taken … insofar as a wholly civilized people can respond to such a threat, of course. As a chosen representative of the populace I assure you that you will have our full cooperation. We may not be able to ‘kill,’ but we can do much else in our own defense.”

  The S’van hastened to try and lower his allies’ emotional temperature. “We know the Wais do not fight. Remember, I’m S’van. We do not fight, either.” The administrator seemed mollified.

  “The Council will appreciate any assistance you can render to the defending forces. Additional personnel are already on their way. Massood and … Humans.”

  Feathered heads dipped together, chittering softly. Again it was left to the senior female to speak. “You must be aware that Human combat troops have never been stationed on Ulaluable, or for that matter any of the Wais worlds. It is not part of the Covenant of Agreement.”

  Out of the corner of an eye the S’van saw the muscular Human stiffen slightly. However, he said nothing, exhibiting a self-control not normally associated with his kind. He was a ranking officer, the S’van reminded himself, and intelligent enough to know that in such circumstances it was better to let a S’van do the talking.

  “All Human personnel will be assigned to and billeted at important industrial and communications facilities. Cities and unnecessary contact with the general population will be avoided.”

  “Suits us fine,” the Human could not resist muttering.

  The male Wais who spoke affected not to hear the comment. “We are of course grateful for the assistance of all our friends and allies. It seems we are to have no choice in the matter anyway.”

  “On the contrary,” said the S’van. “If you so desire, these additional defensive forces allocated to Ulaluable can instead be divided among the other threatened worlds.”

  “That will not be necessary,” the female hastily assured him. “You must understand that while you concern yourselves with matters military, it is left to us to deal with the delicate social fabric of our society.”

  “I do understand.” The S’van smiled behind his beard. Of all the Weave races, only the S’van utilized the smile more than Humans. “It is my hope that Ulaluable is not the target of the Amplitur.”

  The three ornithorps whistled agreement in unison, each musical exhalation pitched slightly differently from that of its neighbor. “We are obliged for your concern,” the female said, “and realize that extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary measures. We gratefully accept the temporary stationing of additional Massood and Human soldiers in our soil.”

  “Temporary,” chorused her male associates.

  The Human officer continued to observe and listen in silence. He’d served as liaison to the “civilized” Weave races too long to allow their reactions to the presence of his kind to upset him. Save for the Massood and occasionally the S’van, the thanks Humans received for putting their lives on the line in defense of other species was indifferent at best. He sighed resignedly. The Wais could not help the way they were. At such times the Human lot could be a difficult one.

  They would provide ample material aid, but that was all. Once, he had seen a Wais, fortified with medication, through a tremendous effort of will actually lift and fire a small handgun before collapsing in a nauseated faint. It was an experience not likely oft to be repeated, even if Ulaluable was attacked. The defense of their world was up to him and his kind … and the Massood, of course. No getting around it. That was the way the pulsar spun, he told himself.

  Silently he wished for the meeting to end. Someone had to serve as a liaison to the Wais, and he had been compelled to accept the role. That didn’t mean he had to like it. Like the majority of his kind he had been trained as a soldier. Direct action suited him, diplomacy made him itch. He longed for reassignment to a combat unit. Even the sympathetic S’van was starting to get on his nerves.

  Idly he fingered his service belt. Like his boots, the material of which it was fashioned was incredibly light, tough, attractive, and of Wais design and manufacture. That was what the Weave was about, he mused. Each species contributed according to its talents and abilities. Wais designed, Lepar carried, Hivistahm engineered, S’van held together, O’o’yan maintained, and so forth. Turlog thought,
Humans and Massood slew.

  He comforted himself in the knowledge that the specialty nature seemed to have assigned his kind was at least easy to understand.

  XVIII

  The grim expression Ranji wore whenever he was compelled to leave his cabin discouraged even close friends from trying to talk to him, and helped to preserve his solitude during the long Underspace journey out from Cossuut. Everyone knew that as Field Unifer great responsibilities devolved upon him. It was therefore only natural to assume that his attitude was a reflection of the serious inner contemplation that preceded battle. He was left alone.

  His isolation suited Ranji just fine. Had his companions known the real reason for his solemnity they would have been shocked and dismayed. Not only was he not deeply engrossed in preparing battlefield strategy; he was wholly absorbed in trying to find a means of avoiding combat altogether.

  There were too many times when he wondered why he was bothering to try. He was one man, one individual caught up in a millennia old galactic conflagration that involved billions of intelligent beings. Events of prodigious import were in motion, and like litter on a wave he found himself helplessly swept up and washed along, to be pounded against whatever shore fate had in store for him. Not for the first time he found himself thinking that perhaps the best thing he could do was simply try to preserve his own life and live it out as comfortably and unobtrusively as possible.

  Only, he was repeatedly hammered by uneasy dreams, and visions of his sister slicing Human throats at the behest of shadowy, tentacular forms. Thoughts were not as easily avoided as friends.

  What could he do? They were about to attack a developed Weave world largely populated by the ultracivilized, innocuous race known as the Wais. As the mere appearance of enemy troops was likely to paralyze the population, they would have to be defended by Massood and Humans. How could he, as Field Unifer, avoid participating in battle and giving orders if not directly having a hand in the deaths of many of his own kind? Desperately seeking a means of avoidance, he found only bleak and inner despair.

  Time was running out. The invasion force was less than five days from the target. Preparations for touchdown had already begun. He might yet be spared contemplated agonies, he knew, for their landing shuttle might well be blown out of Ulaluable’s sky by orbiting or land-based defenses, thus sparing him the need to make life-threatening decisions. His attitude toward such a quick and exonerating death had grown dangerously ambivalent.

  Perhaps worst of all, the truth gnawed at him like an insect struggling to escape its cocoon. He had returned to his people to give them knowledge, only to find himself unable to speak. The futility of his circumstances tormented him far worse than any prospect of dying.

  His colleagues saw the inner struggle mirrored in his expression and misinterpreted its origin to his benefit.

  He considered feigning mental collapse, seeking surcease in an inveigled disgrace. But that would not preserve his brother, nor prevent his sister from being trained to follow after. There was simply no way to extend his solitude to those he loved. He would have to find another way.

  As attack preparations around him intensified, he redirected himself to the problem with ferocious application.

  It wasn’t until the day before the fleet was to phase out of Underspace that he remembered the kindly Lepar, Itepu. Remembered his compassion and understanding. His had been a simpler view of the cosmos, basic and uncomplicated. In such simplifications were certain virtues. He pondered those memories, trying to recall everything he and the Lepar had discussed during his half-forgotten journey from Eirrosad to Omaphil.

  When the word came for all soldiers to don field armor and equipment, he was much eased in mind. He knew now what he was going to have to do. If it ended in death, then at least he would be spared the future tribulation of thinking.

  Those under his immediate command relaxed when they saw their Unifer stride purposefully into the landing shuttle. Clearly the depth and extent of his hermetic contemplation during the voyage out from Cossuut had amply prepared him for the forthcoming conflict. It boosted their morale accordingly.

  “Look at him.” The recent graduate nudged his companion as they watched Ranji board the command sled. “Utterly self-possessed. He’s ready.”

  “I hear he’s always like that.” The young woman tracked the Unifer’s progress admiringly. “You heard the story of how he handled himself on Eirrosad?”

  The man was checking the charge level on his stinger. “Never panicked, kept his head when everybody else was losing theirs. I’m glad we’re in his group.”

  “By the Purpose,” said a much shorter Ashregan from nearby, “I’m just glad he is on our shuttle!”

  They examined each other’s armor locks and visors, exchanged and rechecked weapons. Once the shuttle touched down on the Ulaluablian surface they would be thrust outside and into a combat situation, where such checks would have to be performed, if at all, under arduous and possibly lethal conditions. Better to make certain seals were tight and weapons powered up now.

  It must have been something to see: a dozen immense starships suddenly and simultaneously materializing from Underspace just above the cloud layer of Ulaluable’s blue-green globe. There was nothing present to witness the sight, however, except the alert sensors of the automatic orbiting planetary-defense system, which responded anon.

  As ships dropped shuttles in the fashion of fecund invertebrates, on-board weaponry had some success in dealing with the cluster of orbiting hellaciousness. One ship as destroyed by a self-guiding orbital mine, both erupting in a flaming plume of metal, gas, and organic components. Seared vacuum momentarily blinded every instrument in the vicinity. Five other vessels were badly damaged by high-power, mirror-aligned particle beams.

  The rest unloaded their deadly cargo with admirable speed and dispatch. Metaloceramic crescents dove into the clouds and made their way to the waiting surface, where their contents spread out and sought cover with slick alacrity.

  Not every shuttle made it to ground. Some were obliterated by surface-based weapons. Others ran afoul of scrambling high-speed aircraft. But by the time the surviving starships retired to the protective astrophysical anonymity of Underspace, the greater portion of the battlegroup had successfully disembarked and dispersed. Now if Ulaluable’s defenders chose to use heavy weapons on the invaders they would be putting at risk sensitive portions of the very world they were supposed to be protecting.

  Ordinarily destruction or damage to half an attacking force’s ships would be sufficient to bring an invasion to a halt, but not this time. There was too much at stake for the Amplitur to recall their ground forces, which after all had made it down largely intact. The components of the engagement had shifted surfaceward. Time to see what the Ashregan-led battlegroup could do.

  Ranji’s shuttle landed hard in a grassy glade surrounded by extremely thin, tall trees, rattling both soldiers and equipment. The attenuated woods provided some cover from patrolling aircraft, as did the soot-colored clouds from which a light rain was falling. As troops rushed to disembark, the shuttle’s crew stayed at the equipment which projected half a dozen ghost shuttles overhead, their purpose being to bemuse and distract enemy sensors.

  Ranji commanded slightly less than a thousand regular and modified Ashregan soldiers riding skids and floaters. They deployed themselves with gratifying speed, erecting camouflage and establishing a perimeter while engineers excavated a hole deep enough to conceal the shuttle. Maintained and defended by its own crew, it would serve as a field base, a point of reference, and, if need be, a means of final retreat.

  Their target was the control station of the principal power-distribution grid for the entire northern third of the planetary landmass. Like any other unavoidably unsightly industrial complex on a Wais world, it had been sited as far as practicable from the nearest population center.

  An intricate network of dams in the nearby mountains stored water for irrigation and hydropower. It w
ould have been a simple matter to target them for destruction by land-based missiles, but that would require their replacement by the eventual victors. A much more sensible course of action involved the incapacitation or better yet, the capture of the complex that stored and distributed the power thus generated.

  If Ranji’s group could capture the complex they would control the supply of energy for half the population of Ulaluable. Nor could the defenders blast them out without destroying the critical components of their own power grid. A successful assault on the center would weaken local communications, industry, and transportation significantly.

  The Wais were little better prepared psychologically to deal with an attack than if they had not been warned at all. True to the claims of their chosen administrators, they did not panic: they merely shut themselves away in their homes and waited for defenders or assailants to triumph. In the sparsely populated regions where the invaders landed, it was more difficult to pretend nothing so uncivilized was taking place. Some citizens fled, others barricaded themselves in their places of work, and a small portion went catatonic.

  Of all the Weave races, the Wais were perhaps the least well equipped to deal with the awkward reality of contentious violence. The very thought of their exquisitely coiffed garden world being subjected to onerous combat was enough to induce severe trauma in the more sensitive of them. It was left to Ulaluable’s Hivistahm inhabitants to maintain the abandoned planetary infrastructure and assist the defenders in the movement of troops and supplies.

  The second group of invaders made swift progress toward the capital city’s communications center until they came up against a small but well-entrenched cluster of determined Massood. As the defenders were in possession of advanced surface-to-air weaponry, the attackers’ skids and floaters were unable to detour to their target.

  Thus bogged down, the invaders were forced to take up secure positions of their own, which gave the besieged Massood time to call in reinforcements from the city. This included a flying squad of Humans, who threw themselves against the Ashregan with utter disregard for their own safety, making life miserable for the Unifers in charge of the attack by reducing their careful timetables to chaos.